


you gotta help me

by trashmouthtrash



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Gen, Hospitals, Hurt Richie Tozier, Hurt/Comfort, I will protecc richie tozier til the day I die, Injury, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, i love how that's a tag, no fucking pennywise, they're all protective of richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 08:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashmouthtrash/pseuds/trashmouthtrash
Summary: the bowers gang attacks richie and the losers are there for the aftermath.





	you gotta help me

**Author's Note:**

> you s-s-suck, bowers
> 
> (I don't own the characters, only the sadistic plot)

A dumpster. They find him in a dumpster, tossed out with the trash.

(“Better watch it, trashmouth!”)

Eddie knows what happened the second he sees Richie’s books scattered around the alley. He wonders, distantly, when all this shit with the bullies started.

Maybe it started when Richie was late to Bill’s. Which wouldn’t have been too concerning if it wasn’t his turn to pick for movie night; he’d never pass that up, not without letting them know. 

Or maybe it was earlier, when Patrick Hockstetter had shoved Richie to the ground after he’d made one too many smartass comments. 

You know what, maybe it even started when Richie had shown up to school with a black eye. He blamed it on being clumsy, but when Richie flinched after Henry Bowers poked him in class, Eddie knew the truth.

At this point, staring at Richie’s bruised figure in the dumpster, Eddie didn’t really care when it started. He just wanted it to end.

XXX

“Holy shit, Richie,” Mike murmurs. He and Bill climb in the dumpster, grunting as they pick up their friend. Then Stan and Ben take Richie from their arms, laying him gently on the ground. 

He’s a mess of black and blue. Richie’s all pale, shivering even in unconsciousness. Bev combs through his hair while Mike shrugs off his jacket, making a makeshift pillow. Stan does the same, draping his coat over Richie’s shaking body.

Bev shakes his shoulder. “Richie? You gotta wake up for me, come on.”

“Come on, Rich. Wake up.” Eddie grabs his hand.

Richie stirs. He grunts, blinking slowly. “Wha-?”

(( his head is pounding and his vision is blurry and why is it so fucking cold? all these blurry faces staring down at him, crowding his vision, are they gonna beat him up again because richie really doesn’t think he can take that right now ))

His hands fly out and he scoots back, running solely on instinct. Bev is familiar with this fight-or-flight, panicked response. She grabs his flailing fist, shushing him. “It’s okay, Rich, it’s just us.”

Richie stills, blinks again, and then they realize; his glasses. Richie can’t see shit without his glasses, where are they?

Richie seems to be realizing the same thing as he brings a slow, clumsy hand up to his eyes. He mumbles, “Bev?”

“Yeah, Rich?”

“What happ’n’d.... Can’t see… h’rts…”

He’s struggling, struggling for words, struggling to stay awake. “Eds?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Richie smirks, that goddamn smirk of his, Then his grin falls, and his breath catches. “Hurts, Eds, hurts bad.”

Eddie frowns. “I know. Where does it hurt? And if you say everywhere I’m gonna smack you.”

Richie’s wink says that was exactly what he was going to say. Wordlessly he pulls up the hem of his shirt, revealing a colorful mess of deep bruises.

“Holy shit!”

“What happened?”

Richie lowers his eyes. “They, uh, got me on the way home from school.”

Ben freezes. He glances at his watch, confirming his suspicion. “Richie, it’s almost nine. You’ve been here for like five hours!”

“To be fair, it’s really hard to climb out of a dumpster when you’re unconscious.”

“No shit.”

Richie groans and mutters a weak “fuck” before turning to the side and vomiting violently. Stan jumps back - as does Eddie - but Bill is the one who gets hit. He hardly winces.

Once Richie stops, breathing hard, he mutters, “Sorry Bill.”

“It’s f-fine.”

Richie is panting and shaking. Bev moves to support him, ending up with Richie’s head in her lap. 

“Do you need a hospital?” Ben asks. 

Richie groans. “No?”

“Why does that sound like more of a question than an answer?” Mike counters.

Richie takes a deep breath, considering. “Look, I can’t pay for a hospital trip anyway. I’m fine. A couple of band-aids will do the trick.”

Stan deadpans, “Band-aids aren’t gonna do anything if you have internal bleeding or something.”

“True, old chap, very true…” Richie muses. His british accent is faint and yes, still terrible. 

Ben nudges Bev. “I really think we should take him to a doctor. Look at him. It’s not safe if we don’t. I mean, he’s been out here for hours.” 

Bev nods distractedly, eyes narrowing as she watches Richie. “Rich. Open your eyes.”

Richie obeys, and Bev looks closely at his eyes. Richie opens his mouth with a smirk that says he’s about to make a smartass comment, but Bev cuts him off. “Does your head hurt?”

“Not at all, m’dear. Why, I don’t feel a thing in this old-”

“Richie!” Eddie groans.

“Yeah. It’s pounding. Bad.”

It takes a lot for Richie to admit that he’s in pain. Bev sighs. “You’re not gonna like this, but you have to go to the hospital. No excuses. I think you might have a concussion”

“But-!”

“Richie.”

“I just…” Richie’s eyes flutter as he trails off. “Tired,” he mumbles. Bill taps Richie’s face and Richie recoils, groaning and blinking heavily.

Bev gives the other boys a pointed look. Mike and Stan help Richie sit up, trying to get him to his feet. 

Richie’s head lolls. Stan curses. “Come on, Rich. We just gotta get you to the bikes.” Richie mumbles something incoherently in response.

They shuffle slowly, Richie almost completely limp between Mike and Stan. It takes them a long time - too long - but eventually Richie is situated on the back of Silver. He slumps against Bill.

“HI HO SILVER AWAAAAAY”

(no one comments on the note of desperation in Bill’s voice)

XXX

Eddie is going to kill Henry Bowers and his gang of assholes.

Looking at Richie, pale and unconscious in a hospital bed, Eddie thinks he has enough rage to commit murder. Richie hasn’t woken up yet; it’s been hours. 

They are all crammed into the little hospital room. Bev and Eddie are holding Richie’s hands, and Ben is half-asleep in a chair by the foot of the bed. The heart monitor beeps steadily.

Richie’s parents have yet to make an appearance. 

Just as Stan is beginning to think his parents would be pissed if he isn’t home soon, Richie returns to consciousness.

“Mmm… Ow.”

Bill’s head jerks to attention; he nudges Mike with an elbow to the stomach. Eddie is staring at Richie intently. 

“Wake up, Rich. We’re all here. You’re safe.”

Richie mutters something, and Eddie leans closer. “What?”

“Hurts like your mom’s-”

“Oh my god, Richie, fuck you. That’s gross.” Eddie wacks him lightly, but there’s a grin on his face.

Bev squeezes his hand. “You freaked me out, asshole.”

Richie sobers, if slightly. “Thank you guys for, for finding me. I don’t remember it too well and I’m on the good shit right now, but uh, I know I would’ve been in that dumpster a helluva lot longer if it weren’t for you guys, so… thanks.”

“Aw, look, Richie’s trying to be sentimental.”

Richie weakly waves his hand at Bev, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s okay. We all knew you were secretly a softie.” Richie glares at Ben halfheartedly. He leans his head back with a wry smile. 

“Go to sleep, Rich. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“M’kay.”

Eddie thinks Richie has drifted off, but then he nudges Eddie.

“If you see Bowers, flip him off for me.”

Eddie snorts, and Richie falls asleep with a small smile on his face.

XXX

**Author's Note:**

> we all need some richie whump. it's my weakness, I'm looking for more hurt richie fics so if you have recs I will love you forever.  
> I have a little bit more written on this. I could finish and do another chapter if you guys want. let me know, losers. also feel free to leave feedback or prompts <3
> 
> p.s. no one knows what happened to richie's glasses. next chapter?


End file.
